


a time and a place (for khaki pants)

by blazeofglory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Take Your Fandom to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin Skywalker may not give a shit about his job as a department store cashier, but he <i>does</i> give a shit about Obi-Wan Kenobi, the shoe department's hottest manager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a time and a place (for khaki pants)

Anakin was trying his very best to hold back a dramatic sigh, but he had a feeling he didn’t have much resistance left. He had come in when the store had opened at 8am, for god’s sake, and he was _finally_ almost finished with the longest nine-hour shift of his life. Why were nine-hour shifts even a thing? How was that _legal_? The long hours, the AC cranked up to _freezing_ , having to work through lunch because the goddamn lines wouldn’t die down, and a slew of bitchy customers had all made for a terrible day. His head was fucking pounding.

Anakin let himself sigh, long and loud, grateful for the first lull in customers he’d had all day. If he craned his neck to look around all the fixtures, he could see Padmé at the jewelry counter facing down a long line—soon enough, her customers would realize his line was empty and they’d flock to him. He scratched at the back of his neck where his stupid lanyard was itching like crazy, and he was just building up to another tired sigh when he spotted Obi-Wan out of the corner of a nearby mirror. Anakin straightened up a little, tucking a stray receipt behind the machine and straightening his nametag.

He was leaning against the counter with a grin when Obi-Wan made it over. Obi-Wan was older and _hot_ and recently promoted to a department manager—and he was the only one who kept Anakin sane during the long, busy summer days. He’d seen the other man come in to start his shift half an hour ago, but Obi-Wan had only _just_ made his way to the men’s clothing side of the store, where Anakin had been working all day.

Obi-Wan had been POS for a time too, and a hell of a lot better at it than Anakin. On the lucky days that they’d managed to get the same shifts, they always fought for registers next to each other. They would still be separated by the little wall and their counters, but they could whisper when the managers weren’t around, and keep themselves entertained. The regular customers would never know whose register they wanted to go to—Obi-Wan folded clothes better and was always saying things like, “tell your grandmother I said hi, I noticed she hasn’t been in lately;” but he was also more likely to ask you to sign up for the store credit card. Anakin almost never asked, which the managers threatened to fire him over more than once, and he was more likely to slip a customer a coupon. That being said, though, his folding was atrocious and he knew it, and whenever he fucked up a receipt, he was never quite sure how to fix it.

The real difference between Anakin and Obi-Wan was that Obi-Wan really _tried_ , and Anakin couldn’t be bothered. That was probably why Obi-Wan was now in charge of the shoes department, while Anakin was stuck at his lonely little register.

“You know you’re not supposed to lean on the counters,” Obi-Wan felt compelled to point out, even as he grinned at Anakin.

Obi-Wan came around the front of the counter, and Anakin didn’t move; their faces were very close. Anakin couldn’t help but glance down at Obi-Wan’s lips, biting his own at the thought of just leaning a little further over… He made himself look back up at Obi-Wan’s blushing face. 

“You’ve leaned on a counter a time or two,” Anakin finally replied, straightening up anyway. Miracle of all miracles, he still didn’t have any customers. “How’s life over in shoes?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, idly straightening the bars of overpriced candy on the counter. Anakin’s eyes tracked over the slope of his shoulders and his perfect arms, and _god_ he hoped that Obi-Wan walked in the direction away from the register so Anakin could see that ass in khakis. Anakin knew he himself looked ridiculous in them, but _Obi-Wan_ , on the other hand… Anakin had fucking wet dreams about those pants.

“Shoes is a disaster,” Obi-Wan answered with a sigh of his own. “I’ve been here—what, thirty minutes? —And I’ve already dealt with three crying children and a middle-aged woman who couldn’t find the sneakers she wanted. Not to mention that the clearance aisle is a _mess_ , I don’t even know where to begin with it.” 

Anakin nodded sympathetically, reaching out to pat Obi-Wan’s hand on the counter. He left his hand there for a moment; Obi-Wan glanced down at their hands, but didn’t move away either. Anakin bit his lip to keep himself from smiling.

“It’s been hell up here too, I’m on hour eight of my nine-hour shift,” Anakin whined. He was so _tired_. “You know we have _three_ coupons going right now? Three, Obi-Wan. It’s insane.”

“Oh, I’m aware. This is going to be the longest weekend of the summer.”

Anakin checked the closest mirror, and sure enough, there was a whole family headed toward his register. Impromptu break over. Unless—?

“If shoes can spare you for a few minutes, you can help me bag,” Anakin suggested, poking his screen to wake it back up. Obi-Wan frowned for a second, then glanced around looking for a floor manager; there were none around to tell him to get back to work. 

“For old time’s sake,” Obi-Wan replied, grinning as he came around the back of the counter and joined Anakin in front of the screen. They’d only done this a few times: once or twice around Christmas when there were people buying obscene amounts of trinkets and clothes that needed folded and wrapped, and one day last summer. Anakin’s first day, to be exact; when he’d bagged for Obi-Wan as part of his training.

He’d let the hangers rip three bags in his distraction that day. Being a cashier seemed like no sweat, but Obi-Wan was so _hot_ and so close, Anakin couldn’t even remember his own name after twenty minutes with him. 

Now, though, Anakin bumped Obi-Wan’s hip with his own in easy familiarity. The family reached his counter and he started up the spiel he’d already given a thousand times that day as he rang up their items. Obi-Wan stood beside him, taking off the hangers and folding the clothes neatly. They worked well together; when Anakin didn’t offer the customer a charge card, Obi-Wan butted in to offer it himself. The woman declined; Anakin gave her a 15% off discount anyway.

It was all over after a few minutes, but Anakin was reluctant to let Obi-Wan go back to shoes just yet. The second the family had moved past them, putting their cart back and stepping out the automatic doors into the hot summer sun, Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan.

“What time do you get off?”

“I close tonight,” Obi-Wan answered with a frown, absentmindedly scratching his beard. “Did you want to hang out?"

Anakin shrugged, trying not to seem overeager. They hung out outside work fairly often, but this time… He was tired of staring at Obi-Wan’s ass in those damn khakis and not being allowed to touch. _God_ , he wanted to touch.

“Yeah,” Anakin responded casually, nudging Obi-Wan’s foot. “I’m off in an hour and I wanna get some sleep, but I can pick you up at 11. If you want.”

Obi-Wan raised a brow, but he shrugged anyway. “Sure, we can do that.” He stepped even closer, straightening Anakin’s lopsided lanyard that refused to hang straight no matter how many times he fixed it. Maybe that was a metaphor for his sexuality, but he was too focused on the warmth of Obi-Wan’s hand on his chest to really think about it. Obi-Wan continued, voice laced with intent, “Have something in mind?”

 _Oh._ This was happening.

Anakin bit his lip, and his lips curled up into a smirk when he noticed Obi-Wan look.

“I have a few things in mind, actually,” Anakin replied, eyes bright and mischievous. Obi-Wan’s hand slowly dropped from his chest as he took a step back, away from the register. 

“Good. I’ll see you at close then.”

Anakin nodded, mouth suddenly dry—and then, the best part, Obi-Wan turned and walked down the aisle toward the shoe department. That _ass._ Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder as he turned around the corner, his eyes meeting Anakin’s across the distance and the fixtures. They both grinned like idiots.

After Obi-Wan had turned back and finally left, Anakin checked the clock on the screen. Less than an hour left ‘til his shift was over, then about six hours until Obi-Wan’s was too. And after that… Well, who knows what would happen?

Another customer came up to his register and started talking a mile a minute about online deals and price matching and all sorts of shit Anakin could care less about. Behind her, a line was forming again. He held back a sigh and launched into the spiel again—but all he could think about for the rest of the day was blue eyes and ginger hair and tight khaki pants.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate my job. I think Anakin would feel the same.


End file.
